Snapshots
by Beloved-Stranger
Summary: Series of drabbles and ficlets written for the 100 Themes Challenge on Karofsky Love - final batch: Dave begins his recovery with a little help from his friends; sunlight finds two lovers; Rachel is socially inappropriate; Dave takes a different way out.
1. Snapshots

**Title: Snapshots**

Pairing(s): Kurtofsky

Rating: PG-13 for the below warnings

Word Count: Listed with each drabble

Warnings: Fluff; sexual references; rampant domesticity; beagles (well, one); angst; crooning; implied violence; Brittany.

Spoilers: Right up to _On My Way_.

**Summary:** A batch of double drabbles for the 100 Themes Challenge on K Love. I may post more later…like when I'm not drowning in assignments :S

* * *

**Theme: 24. No Time**_  
Word Count: 196 (double drabble)_

Kurt sets the timer on the oven – its pie night – and flings down his pot-mitts. He's already half out of his shirt by the time Dave gets in the door.

"Girls're at San and Britt's," he says, dragging Dave inside and attacking his buttons.

"How much time do we have?" Dave asks with all the seriousness of someone planning a military campaign.

"An hour if we're lucky."

"Cutting it fine," Dave says, "but it's doable."

"Your _face_ is doable," Kurt mutters, going for the jugular.

"Your mom is…okay, enough witty banter," Dave moans as Kurt bites down. "Lose the pants, Fancy."

There's a very involved, very noisy interlude which results in several hurried but heartfelt orgasms, a jammed zipper, a broken lamp and (because they really can't help themselves) more witty banter.

The pair of them are flat on their backs, panting at the ceiling and thinking lazy thoughts (Kurt's are rather self-congratulatory actually) when there's a _buzz_ from the bedclothes.

"I thought we turned that off."

"It's my phone, not the…um."

Kurt grins. "You're thirty, David, you can say _dildo_."

"Shuddap. San texted; they're nearly here."

As if on cue: _bing!_

Kurt laughs. "Pie's done."

* * *

**Theme: 73. I Can't**_  
Word Count: 200 (double drabble)_

The album tops Ke$sha's latest, knocking her off the number one spot within a week of release.

Kurt's been avoiding it for reasons he won't examine, but finally caves and buys the limited addition vinyl from Sam's shop and then swears him to secrecy.

He spends the rest of the afternoon sprawled on his living room floor, entranced.

It's nothing like the earlier albums; Band Apart is a band of many facets, but their bread and butter is rock. This is…not.

This is a low, warm voice filling the room like hot chocolate. This is a man making love to an unseen darling. This is sweet and lost and _aching_, and Kurt is taken back to the first time he heard Adele's _Lovesong_; the catch in his throat, the heat in his chest.

When the first of the bonus tracks starts, his eyes burn and his heart seizes up.

_Footfalls under an ocean  
A heartbeat that lasts a year  
I see expectation coming  
I hear you loud and clear  
_

_And I'm so sorry sweetheart  
But I can't  
I can't_

Kurt smiles, eyes closing at the final chorus when he hears:

_I'm not sorry sweetheart  
I know I can  
I can_

* * *

**Theme: 38. Abandoned**_  
Word Count: 194 (double drabble)_

The soft whine from under his car is remarkably _un_ignorable.

Dave sighs, puts his backpack on the backseat and awkwardly gets down on his knees, peering into the wet gloom.

It's a beagle.

_Of course _it's a damn _beagle_; Dave's always had this terrible weakness for beagles.

He sighs again and reaches under the car, crooning to the pup until she gets close enough to drag out. Once she's safely stowed in Dave's coat he begins the drive home.

What is he _doing_? He's going to _college_ in a few months – he can't just leave his dad alone with a dog…

His dad.

Alone.

With a dog…

Only he wouldn't be, with a dog, would he? There would be someone home when his dad finished work each night, and someone to hang out with him or go fishing on weekends when Dave can't make it home…

"Huh," says Dave, softly since the pup is sleeping against his chest. "What's that word that means you find a thing you need without knowing you need it?"

Two days later Dave's standing at the key-cutting kiosk in the local mall having a dog tag inscribed with 'Serendipity'.

* * *

**Theme: 68. Hero**_  
Word Count: 194 (double drabble)_

Blood has made a sharp arc across the classroom floor and the air smells of new pennies. There are smears of it on Dave's hands and his left cheek. It's drying now, itching.

Rachel's breathing is shallow against his neck. Dave tries not to jostle her leg; the bleeding could start again, and if she cries out in pain, they could be found…

"It's gonna be okay," he finds himself saying and then fights not to flinch at the distant thunder of gunshots…and screams. "We'll be okay."

"I…I know," she breathes. "Dave?"

"Yeah?"

"You're very brave."

He has absolutely no idea what to say.

"I should've told you when you came back, but… You're very brave, and I –"

"Should stop talking, Berry, seriously, is it like a compulsion for you?"

She huffs a laugh. He can feel tears on his skin.

"I admire you," she whispers. "I'm proud of you."

"You just like me 'cos I kept you from bleeding out."

Another tiny laugh. Gunshots two corridors over. She presses her face to her chest and he curls close around her.

"I'm scared."

"Me too…"

…and then there's sirens coming down the street.

* * *

**Theme: 39. Dreams**_  
Word Count: 199 (double drabble)_

Kurt is struggling to comprehend what he's seeing.

It _looks_ like Dave Karofsky in a waistcoat and cabbie cap leading a dapple grey unicorn – only that makes even less sense than Scientology.

And yet, _Dave Karofsky is in a waistcoat and a cabbie cap leading a dapple grey unicorn_.

"Hi," Dave says when he gets closer. He smiles nervously, eyes shy. The…the unicorn is nibbling on his shirt.

It's remarkably calm considering the rowdy crowd behind Kurt; Brittany's birthday falls midsummer, and this year her parents have pulled out all the stops and put together a party that strongly resembles a fair. Half the school is here.

Kurt stares.

"It…you…what?" he asks intelligently.

"It's –"

"DAVE!"

Brittany careens out of the crowd of revellers, eyes electric blue in the sunlight, and gasps.

"Is that –?"

Dave smiles his shy smile.

"Happy Birthday, Britt," he tells her, drawing her hand over to the mythological gift. "He's yours for the day."

She stares at him, stroking the equine's nose.

"Dave," she says wonderingly, "_you're_ the most unicorn of them all. Just like Kurt!"

Dave glances at him and blushes and…Kurt finds himself absurdly charmed.

Which, again – _even less sense than Scientology_.


	2. Flicker

**Title: Flick(e)r**

Pairing(s): Kurtofsky, Dave/OC

Rating: PG-13 for the below warnings

Word Count: Listed with each drabble

Warnings: Fluff; death; domesticity; language; angst; soap operatic plot twists; crooning; Ollie.

Spoilers: Right up to _Saturday Night Glee-ver_.

**Summary: **

Another batch of double drabbles/double drabbles for the 100 Themes Challenge on K Love. Seriously it's like I have no self-control. Some of these are from my other 'verses – _Long Road Home_, _Breathe Me_, _Right on Time_ and _Band Apart_. But as always, they can be read as stand-alones.

* * *

**Theme: 25. Trouble Lurking  
Word count: 99**

Quick as a striking snake, she grabs his ear in a bruising grip and hauls him down.

"You listen to me, you walking couch," Ollie snarls. "He's my cousin and I love him and anyone who hurts him is gonna get their asses kicked so hard they'll be tasting my boot-leather 'til they graduate and I'm well aware that I'm five-foot-four and not much to look at but _neither are pitbulls_."

Azimio makes a sound like he's being stabbed.

Around the corner, out of sight, Kurt breathes "is she serious?" to a stunned Dave.

"Terrifyingly," he breathes back, "yes."

* * *

**Theme: 46. Family  
Word count: 200**

"Unique Adams?"

The kid at the dressing table looks up. Raises one fine eyebrow.

"Can I help you?"

Dave smiles uncertainly. "I hope so." He fidgets. "I, um, I have this friend who's going through some stuff. Stuff I think you can relate to."

Unique's gaze sharpens. "A _friend_, huh?"

"Yeah. I've known her for a while though and…I think of her like a little sister. I wanna help her but…she could use a friend who can relate better than a big gay brother-from-another-mother, y'know?"

"Oh, I know alright. So, she's out or…?"

"No. Transitioning. We hope. Her aunt's her legal guardian, and she's just turned eighteen but…her dad's making things difficult."

"He's why she lives with her aunty?"

"Pretty much." Dave sighs. "I…I recently got to a low point where I couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel…"

"And you don't want that for her," Unique finishes softly.

"…yeah."

Unique nods. "Okay. You give me your friend's number and we'll do coffee this week."

"Thank you," Dave breathes, moving without thinking and pulling Unique into a hug. She laughs into his shoulder.

"Don't worry 'bout it," she says, grinning, "We're family, baby, we gotta stick together."

* * *

**Theme: 34. Stars  
Word count: 123**

Kurt is shifting in his sleep and the air around him is frigid. Dave wakes to find frost drawing patterns on his dorm window.

"Hey," he croons, pulling the other boy back against his chest and kindling the fire in his blood. Banks of fog roil across the carpet as warm and cold air collide. "Hey, Kurt, it's just a dream…it's just a dream…"

Kurt unlocks, sighing out and softening into him.

"Stars were falling," he breathes against Dave's neck, awake now. The molten gold of Dave's veins throws yellow shadows over his skin. "The sky was dying."

"But it's not," Dave says, kissing one snowy shoulder. "And the stars are still way up high…"

The frost on the window begins to melt.

* * *

**Theme: 23. Cat  
Word count: 200**

"You know," Kurt says, amused, "when you said you had a cat this is not what I pictured."

Dave grins at him and keeps rubbing behind the cheetah's ears. "I work at a zoo, dude, what did you expect?"

"I'm sure there are people who work at zoos and have perfectly normal sized pets, David."

"Yeah, but when have any of them said, 'come meet my cat' and then handed you a behind-the-scenes-at-the-zoo pass?"

"Fair call." Kurt smiles and cautiously steps closer. "He really is lovely. What's his name?"

"Amalinze," Dave says as the big cat lifts his head for a better angle and puts a paw on Dave's wrist to keep him there. "He's named after the wrestler from the first chapter of –"

"_Things Fall Apart_. Chinua Achebe." Kurt smiles like a sunrise. "I thought I was the only one I knew who'd read that book."

"Are you kidding? It's brilliant. It's like the only work of fiction with an entirely neutral omniscient narrator. What?" he adds, catching Kurt's look of…curiosity? Intrigue? Puzzlement? Dave can't tell.

"Nothing," he murmurs, smiling that smile again. "So, your 'cat'. How did he end up being yours…?"

* * *

**Theme: 11. Memory  
Word count: 196**

Two years later, Dave will call it the Summer of the Band, but only in his head. As far as the rest of his peers are concerned, Dave Karofsky was never in a band, can't sing that Goo Goo Dolls song that makes Delaney tear up, doesn't play drums and has never felt more than friendship for a tall blond in Levi's and a Sex Bob-Om t-shirt.

Azimio never met them. He was on a family holiday.

He never saw Dave at his drum-kit, laughing at something Percy has said with Bailey perching on his left knee while she re-ties one of her ridiculous floral print Chuck Taylor knock-offs.

He never heard Dave speak to Del like she was the centre of the world.

He never caught the darted looks between him and Leo, the smiles, the way Dave would always angle himself towards Leo in a room…

Sometimes he's thankful for that.

But most of the time he wishes they were all still here.

_And I don't want the world to see me  
Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am…_

* * *

**Theme: 27. Foreign  
Word count: 193**

She's standing in the door to the choir room, watching them with familiar hazel eyes as Tina winds down from _Something in the Water_ and they all dissolve into post-song laughter and euphoria.

Kurt feels something in his chest turn over and drop down to flutter in his stomach.

"Kurt Hummel?"

"That's me," he says, trying to keep casual.

"I'm Tessa Western. I was told you could help me," she says, hesitantly walking towards him. "I'm looking for Dave Karofsky. He used to go here…"

"He transferred, quite a while ago, actually." Kurt's stomach is filling with anxious butterflies.

"I know," she murmurs, "but no one else I've talked to seems to know where he transferred to."

Kurt frowns at her, trying to ignore the covert glances of the rest of the club. He keeps his voice low.

"I have to ask, why do you want to know? Why is it so important you find him?"

She looks scared for a moment, unsure.

Sorrowful.

"He's family," she says softly.

"A cousin," Kurt guesses, judging from the foreign accent.

"No," she whispers, on the verge of tears, "no. I'm his sister.

"I'm his _twin_."

* * *

**Theme: 8. Innocence  
Word count: 200**

"Dada…"

"Yeah, honey, what's up?"

Dave's distractedly getting lunch for himself and the girls. Kurt's out today; business lunch. He stops being distracted really fast when Lily asks,

"What's a faggot?"

Her voice is hushed and uncertain, like she knows the answer isn't nice. Wherever she heard that word it wasn't in a fun situation.

Dave closes his eyes with his back to his daughter. He knew there might be days like this but…

"Where'd you hear that word, bub?" he ask, turning to her.

She looks back at him, hazel eyes anxious. "Jordan said you and daddy are faggots. He was being mean, wasn't he? He sounded mean."

"Yeah, bub," Dave says softly, coming around the breakfast bar and gathering her up. "He was being mean. It's a very mean word for a boy who falls in love with other boys."

"Like you and daddy." It's more statement than question. Dave presses a kiss to her dark hair.

"Yeah. Like me and daddy."

Tomorrow he'll go down to the school and talk to their teacher about inappropriate behaviour and bullying.

But right now he just wants to hold his child and mourn for this first piece of innocence lost.

* * *

**Theme: 17. Blood  
Word count: 200**

Kurt gets the call halfway through Finn's vows.

He almost ignores it…but it's Dave.

He excuses himself, shaking his head at Rachel's darted look and Mercedes' frown.

"Hello? David?"

"Kurt, hi." He still sounds bruised and unsure, and Kurt's heart breaks a bit more. "Look, I – I don't know if anyone's called you…"

Something cold settles in the pit of his stomach. "What's happened?"

"I'm in the ER. Its – it's not me, it – we were driving past the ambulance entrance and…Kurt, I saw Quinn Fabray. She was on the gurney; there was a lot of blood…" He clears his throat. "I just thought you should know. Kurt?"

"I – I don't…" He thinks he might be sick. "Do you know what happened? Wait, are you sure it was her?"

"Dad's gone to find out what he can, but yeah, it was her. Kurt, look, I'm going to stay here, just in case, okay?"

He wants to ask 'just in case of what?' but who knows, right?

Kurt swallows hard. "I have to go, I have to tell…"

"Yeah, I know. I'll be here, okay?"

"Okay. David…thank you."

He hangs up, numb, and turns back to the room.

All hell breaks loose.

* * *

**Theme: 67. Playing the Melody  
Word count: 200  
(the song is 'Belle' by Jack Johnson)**

"Okay, so…"

Dave clears his throat. It's ridiculous to feel intimidated by a bunch of choir-nerds, but he's on their turf right now; this is the one field in which they're legitimately allowed to judge the crap out of him.

"This is the first time I've played. In front of people, I mean. Usually it's just me and my dog."

There's a few soft giggles and Dave smiles down at his hands, absently tuning the guitar in his lap. He can do this…

"It's pretty much the only song I can play _and_ sing, so…"

He clears his throat again and begins to strum. And strum. And strum. He hears someone, probably Berry whisper, "is he going to _sing_ or…" just as Sal joins him on her squeezebox.

"_Oi lienda_," he croons. "_Bella che fa_?"

There's an indrawn breath in the front row.

"_Bonita, bonita que tal_?"

He looks up and somehow manages to catch Kurt's eye. The other boy has a hand pressed over his heart, as though to calm it.

"_But belle_," he sings, unable to pull his gaze away (or stop smiling), "_Je ne comprend pas francais. So you'll have to speak to me, Some other way_…"

* * *

**Theme: 15. Silence  
Word count: 200**

Dave sits in the straw, his back to the concrete wall of the elephant house and listens to the constant wheezing of the creature next to him.

Emily isn't old, but she's always had a weak chest and the pneumonia has taken so much out of her…too much.

The zoo's head vet doesn't know if she'll make it to morning.

Nestled against him, her fuzzy grey head in his lap, Ezinma stirs restlessly in her sleep. She's been sleeping badly since her mother got sick…

He doesn't remember falling asleep. What jars him awake is not the sunlight filtering into the elephant house, but the _silence_ that fills it.

Zinny is up and shoving at her mother in distress. Dave draws her away and cuddles her while Doctor Roth takes Emily's pulse and checks her breathing…

"She's gone," he murmurs, reaching out to grip Dave's shoulder. "I'm so sorry, David, I know she was your favourite."

Dave nods wordlessly. Zinny is pressing her face into his chest. Dave wraps his arms around as much of her as he can.

"It's gonna be okay, Zin," he whispers to her. "It's gonna be okay.

"I'm gonna take care of you. _I promise_."


	3. Worth a Thousand Words

**Title: Worth a Thousand Words**  
**Pairing(s):** Kurtofsky  
**Rating:** R for the below warnings  
**Word Count:** Listed with each drabble  
**Warnings:** The suicide attempt and language.  
**Spoilers:** All things Dave-related.  
**Summary: **My last ditch batch of double drabbles/ficlets for the 100 Themes Challenge on K Love.

* * *

**Theme: 35. Hold My Hand  
Word Count: 997**

Dave spends the next week 'taking some time off'.

Taking time off. That's what Jenny calls it. She's his new peer counsellor. She's about a month younger than him, but Dave feels a bit like a kid around her, despite the fact that she's about a foot shorter than him and wears the occasional anime themed tee-shirt. Pair that with short, fluffy blonde hair and thick-rimmed red glasses and you've got yourself someone who…actually looks like a bit of nerd.

Dave wasn't sure they were going to get on, let alone talk about…stuff. But Jen's easy-going and smiley. She listens when he talks and talks when he needs her to.

And she gets it.

"I tried too," she tells him in their third session. "When I was fifteen."

"Why?"

Jen gives him a small, rueful smile. "I was scared. I used to go to this really catty all-girls school, and it just felt like everyone was out to get me. I mean, it was probably only a handful of people, but they were enough to make me miserable day-in-day-out. One day it all just…too much."

Dave nods. "Yeah."

Some days it still is. So, he's taking time off, and sorting out what he wants to do with himself. He told his dad he couldn't go back to that school, _please don't make me_ –

But his dad had interrupted and said, "I wouldn't let you if you asked. We'll find somewhere else, David."

Somewhere else…

He calls Jenny first, just to feel the idea out, and then he calls Kurt.

* * *

"How's Quinn?"

Kurt blinks at the question – it's not the first thing he was expecting from Dave, but then it makes sense, doesn't it?

"She's…she's getting there." It's been about a week, and that's the best thing that can be said about the situation. They don't know if she'll ever walk again, and for someone who wanted one last cheerleading national title, it's a bitter pill to swallow.

But she's alive, and she's getting there, and it's forged even deeper bonds between all of his girls. Kurt feels his chest tighten and is just so proud of them.

"How are you though?" he asks, rubbing his eyes.

"I'm…getting there, too, I guess. Um, actually, that's what I wanted to ask you, but not over the phone okay?"

"Oh. Okay…you're at home right?"

"Right. Uh, just a warning, Jenny's here too."

"Jenny?"

"Peer counsellor. Kinda nerdy."

There's a squawk of indignation, a soft thump and then Dave laughs.

He _laughs_.

Kurt is suddenly desperate to be there, to _see_ it, to have visual proof of this because it sounds _amazing_.

He is also going to buy this Jenny person some sort of cake.

* * *

Dave smiles at him when he answers the door, and then gets this puzzled look when he sees the white bakery box.

"Dude, did you bring cake?"

Kurt finds himself flushing. "I had a craving. Look, you have to help me eat it, okay?"

"Oookay."

"You're saving me from myself, honestly."

Dave smiles again and leads him through to the den. There's a blonde girl in an old Dragon Ball-Z tank top and red glasses sitting cross-legged at the coffee table, which is strewn with a mix of what looks like homework, school transcripts and…

"PFLAG?" Kurt asks, putting down the cake on the table's one unoccupied corner and picking up a pamphlet.

Dave looks nervous, perhaps a little sheepish. "Yeah…um." He shuffles his feet. "Kurt, this is Jenny, Jen this is Kurt. He goes to my old school. He's the guy I was telling you about."

The blonde grins up at him and offers her hand. "Hi."

Kurt takes it and says hi back, still puzzled. "So…what's all this about? Dave, you said you had something you wanted to ask me?"

"Uh, yeah." Dave settles himself on the couch, and Kurt does the same. "Look, I…I've done a lot of thinking lately and...I had this idea."

He reaches out, and for a moment it's like he's going to touch Kurt's hand, but instead he gently brushes his fingertips over the PFLAG pamphlet Kurt holds.

"When you came back to McKinley, one of the conditions what that we start a PFLAG chapter. Only that never really happened. I was thinking…"

He looks up, finds Kurt's eyes and holds them. He looks so earnest, so cautious.

"What if starting up the chapter for real was one of the conditions of _me_ going back to McKinley."

Kurt can only stare at him, face slack with surprise. "What?" he manages to breathe.

Dave looks so _shy_. "Not right now," he adds quickly. "I…I still need some time but, I talked about it to Jen and I'm going to talk to my dad when he gets home. I just…" He trails off and looks to Jenny for help.

"Our thinking is that when he goes back to school, Dee's going to need a support system. It's easier to build on one that's already there than start from scratch somewhere new. And it would be a peer support system at McKinley, right? Since you guys are friends?"

Kurt nods, still a little breathless. "Yeah – yes. Definitely."

He glances at Dave and sees him smiling that small, shy smile at his hands. It does something to him – makes him _so_ grateful that he's getting to see that smile. It brings home all over again how much he could have lost if Dave had…

"I can talk to the rest of the Glee club as well," he says. He makes sure to meet Dave's hesitant eyes. "I know we're not the most popular people, but we're good at looking after each other. And everyone was so worried about you when…"

There's a stifling moment, but Kurt anchors them all when he grips Dave's wrist. Finds his eyes again.

"They'll want to help." He shifts his grip and tightens his fingers around Dave's. "We all want to help."

_I want to help…_

* * *

**Theme: 3. Light  
Word count: 192**

There's a stillness to the mornings here that Dave has yet to find anywhere else.

Back home, in New York, mornings are a whirlwind of clattering shoes and chattering voices and clanging dishes…he loves mornings in NY, but they're never _still_.

Here…

Here there is only softly filtering light, creeping like slow-poured sugar through the bedroom windows, reaching up and up and up the bedclothes to touch, warm and gentle, at the brushstroke softness of bare skin and tousled hair.

Dave pillows his head on his arm and watches, still half asleep himself, as the sunlight silently embraces the man next to him; fingers of light limn the planes of his chest, the angles of his face, tipping his sooty eyelashes with gold and finding the tiny freckles that span the bridge of his nose each summer.

Kurt stirs in his sleep, sighing out as the light kisses his eyelids, and he rolls towards Dave, sliding a sleep-heavy arm over his waist. Dave gathers him close and presses kisses to his husband's hair.

As the sun climbs higher, he lies back and listens to Paris waking up beyond their hotel room windows.

* * *

**Theme: 65. Horror  
Word Count: 196**

Dave wishes she'd stop doing this.

They've been friends since they were five, and Rach still hasn't figured out that it's not socially acceptable to barge into the locker rooms and demand things of him while the rest of the hockey team are changing.

One, Dave has the ridiculous urge to protect her virgin eyes whenever she marches in, and two, every time she does Matthews screams like a little girl and hides behind his towel.

Dave has started compiling a list of reasons Why This Is Not Acceptable Behaviour, Ms Berry when he hears Matt shriek. But this time –

"JESUS FUCK!"

It's not Rachel.

Dave clamps his towel hard around his waist.

Kurt rolls his eyes. "Oh please."

"What are you doing in here?" Cooper demands, voice rising an octave.

"He's here to peek at our junk!" Matt shrieks, diving behind Nelson.

"Yes," Kurt says drily, "because all us gay guys are out to molest and convert you."

"Is that a confession?"

Kurt's rolls his eyes again. "David. Rachel wants to talk to you."

"Usually she just comes in…"

"She said it's not 'socially acceptable'."

Of all the times for her to get a clue…

* * *

**Theme: 9. Waiting (in the wings)  
Word Count: 999**

The belt breaks.

Everything went mercifully dark, the pressure not even registering anymore, almost euphoric in the throes of oxygen deprivation…

_And the belt snapped cleanly in two._

It makes no sense; the leather is singed at the break, the air smells burnt. There's a mark on Dave's throat, a red line an inch long and the width of a cat's whisker and it _stings_.

Dave stares at it in the mirror and swallows hard, wincing, throat bruised.

_What does this mean?_

Suddenly he can't stand it.

_He can't_…

The overwhelming shame is back, but now he can't stand to look at the stool, or the broken belt, or the bruises.

He can't stay here.

Shivering, frenetic, he gets his duffle and starts throwing clothes into it. He takes his birth certificate, passport, wallet, but leaves his phone on his desk with his laptop. He knows all the important numbers off by heart anyway.

He gets to the door and wonders where he's going.

Maybe…

He remembers his last holiday with his dad, just the two of them. New York was beautiful then, in the grip of a delicious summer. It would be summer there again, soon.

It's as good a place to disappear as any…

* * *

He pulls over once to be sick, stomach churning with fear and adrenaline. He buys ginger ale at a gas station, gets cash at the ATM…and in a moment of weakness, buys a postcard with a goshawk on it and writes to his dad.

_I'm okay_, he writes, _I just couldn't stay, couldn't stand it, I'm sorry, I love you, goodbye…_

He cries in his car for ten minutes before he can bring himself to post it, and keep driving.

* * *

It takes most of the next day to get to NY, and then he when he does get there it's like…_now what?_

He parks his car somewhere it might not get towed or jacked and walks…

And his feet take him somewhere he never expected.

* * *

It's small, as theatres go, and old; the gilt is peeling in places and there's dust in forgotten corners.

Dave can hear voices from the stage, and creeps through one of the side doors, into the back stalls and hunkers down out of sight.

It's an audition.

The guy is good, even Dave knows that, but…

"So," a voice says to his left. "Whatcha think?"

Dave starts – _fuck, caught_ – and stares at the young woman now sitting next to him. She smiles at him, amused. Her eyes are shrewd and dark.

"I don't – I'm sorry – I'll just, um, go…"

Her eyebrows go up, making Dave think of lifting birdwings. "Why? You just got here."

Dave stares at her.

She rolls her eyes. "Anyway. Whatcha think?" She tilts her head towards the stage.

"…of the guy?" Dave asks hesitantly.

"Mmm-hmm."

"He…he's good…"

"But?"

"There's something…missing."

Her eyes focus on him, raptor-sharp. "Yeah?"

Dave hesitates again, then nods.

"Hmmm…"

They stay there, watching audition after audition. Each time she asks him the same question. Dave gives the same answer, until…

He walks onstage and Dave finds himself listening, intent, _aching_ as he starts to sing, to speak, to move.

"Whatcha think?"

"He's good."

"And…?"

Dave puts his chin on his arms, folded on the seat in front of him, and _smiles_.

"That good huh? Hmm. Jerry!" she shouts down to the cluster of people seated near the stage. One guy looks back at her, inquisitive. She tilts her head at the guy on stage, who now looks like he might cry – or split his face open, he's smiling so hard.

She stands up and makes her way to the aisle. Dave feels like he's waking up. They'll kick him out now, and he'll have to go back to finding somewhere to go.

"I'm Isa," the woman says.

Dave blinks. "Uh…Dave. I'm Dave."

Isa smirks. "Good to know. You coming?"

"…what?"

"You just got here, right? To the city?"

"How did you…?"

"That duffle has a 'all my worldly possessions look.' Do you want a place to sleep or not?"

Dave scrambles to his feet and follows her, dumbfounded.

"I – I can pay you back, I mean I – I have some money –"

"You've got a nose for talent better that sharks have for blood," Isa says, "I don't want you to pay me for sleeping on my futon, I want you to help me sniff out my next cast."

Dave has absolutely no idea what to say.

* * *

"You're late," Isa says as he slips into the seat beside her.

"Traffic," Dave murmurs. She rolls her eyes.

He hears boots over the stage floor and the old scar on his neck stings to life…

"Hello, I'm Kurt Hummel, and I'll be singing 'Beach in Cali High', but Gasoline Cowboy."

"Bold choice," Jerry comments.

Kurt tilts his chin (Dave cannot breathe – is this real life?) and smirks. He hypnotizes them with his smile, his eyes.

And his voice.

(It's real life. Dave can't move.)

"Whatcha think?" Isa whispers as Kurt winds down. "Dave?"

Kurt's eyes find his through the glare of the stage-lights. The world hovers over a knife-edge.

"He's good," Dave murmurs back. Isa chuckles beside him.

* * *

"They think you're dead, you know."

Dave's feet halt without permission. He closes his eyes. When he opens them, Kurt is looking back.

"It doesn't matter," he mutters. "It was years ago." They can think what they like; his dad knows he's okay.

"It matters to _me_," Kurt whispers. "I thought… It was just after Valentines and…"

"I didn't run 'cause of you," Dave says, feeling gentle, generous. "I got outed. At school. The pressure was too much, so…"

Kurt's eyes widen. "Dave, I'm so sorry."

Dave shakes his head. "It was a while ago." He smiles. "And I'm alive, right?"

Kurt smiles back, happy, uncertain. "yeah…I'm really glad you're alive, David."

He feels the scar tingle warmly, and like a premonition, hears a goshawk call overhead.

"Me too."


End file.
